


Glass

by prinsessa_mouse



Series: Living in Uggr [8]
Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Headaches & Migraines, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Pre-Dethklok, References to Depression, Stress, Suicidal Thoughts, breakdowns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:54:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28459359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prinsessa_mouse/pseuds/prinsessa_mouse
Summary: Skwisgaar is breaking under the pressure of his relationship and confides in Pickles.
Relationships: Magnus Hammersmith/Skwisgaar Skwigelf, Nathan Explosion/Pickles the Drummer
Series: Living in Uggr [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021879
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	Glass

“Skwisgaar’s acting weird,” Nathan said in passing when he entered the kitchen for another beer.

Pickles stopped tearing apart the kitchen cabinets in search of a snack to feed his munchies. He raised a pierced eyebrow curiously to silently indicate he wanted more information.

“He’s just I don’t know ah fidgety. Keeps rubbing at his eyes like he’s upset about something.”

“Where’s Magnus?” Pickles questioned. His mission to find Nathan’s stash of Doritos got abandoned so he could devise a plan to get Skwisgaar alone.

Nathan shrugged, “Sitting on the couch watching movies with the others.”

Pickles walked past his boyfriend into the living room where Skwisgaar sat cramped up on the couch with his long legs hugged to his chest. He poked the younger man in the shoulder until he got his attention. “Come with me,” the redhead whispered.

Skwisgaar untangled his legs and stood. The tingling sensation of his limbs waking up shot through his legs causing him to stagger awkwardly when he got to his feet. He slowly followed, giving his limbs time to adjust while he walked down the hallway towards Pickles’ bedroom. “Is somethings wrong?” the blonde asked curiously.

“No, I just want to talk to yeh,” Pickles said. He opened the bedroom door, standing a side to let Skwisgaar into the room first before he entered and closed the door. “Take a seat,” he gestured to the bed.

The younger man warily took a seat on the unmade bed and dropped his hands into his lap to twist his wedding ring around his ring finger.

“Can I sit next to yeh?”

Skwisgaar nodded. He kept his eyes trained on his hands as he fidgeted with his ring.

Pickles sat down next to his friend and rested his hand on Skwisgaar’s thigh. “What’s going on? Yeh seemed a bit distant at band practice and Nate says yer buggin’ yer eyes a lot,” the redhead asked.

“Ams tired and a bits stressed. I’ll be fines.”

“What’s on yer mind dude?”

Skwisgaar squeezed his eyes shut. His head hurt in a way that he never experienced before. It wasn’t due to anything Magnus did physically to him. He harbored a lot of stress dealing with his husband’s recent attempts at sobriety. It exhausted him dealing with the older man’s moods off the drugs. The ache in his head didn’t subside even with drugs, band practice and sitting around in the dark watching movies didn’t seem to help. The headache seemed to be linked with his elevated stress. “My head hurts froms stress. Magnus quit the heroins and he ams a bit of a handsful,” he confessed.

“What kind of hurt? Is it botherin’ yer eyes?” Pickles persisted. His tone coming off concerned when his friend spoke of the pain in his head.

“Things are too brights. Makings my head hurts worse.”

Pickles frowned. His hand left Skwisgaar’s thigh to carefully bring his friend’s head down to rest on his shoulder. “When did it start?” he pushed.

“This mornings. It keeps gettings worse and bands practice sucked,” Skwisgaar whimpered.

“Think yeh have a migraine dude. Yeh said yeh were under stress dealing with Magnus. What’s going on at home?”

The Swede let out a shaky breath. With Magnus in the other room, he worried about sharing the latest update about his marriage problems. Pickles smoothed down his blonde hair to ease some of the tension. “Magi’s withdrawal ams horrible. He’s dopes sick a lot, he’s moody, and needy. Sometimes he makes sense other days I has no ideas whats he means. He rambles, he wakes me ups to talks about music or hears song he wrote. He started carryings a knife on him which I don’ts like. I don’ts feel safe to speaks or move ins my home. Anythings can cause him to be angry or breaks down,” the blonde huffed tiredly.

“Why is he carrying a knife?” Pickles asked fearfully. That admission alone put him into a state of panic for not only the bands safety but Skwisgaar’s.

“He collects them. Magi always hads lot of different knives. He nevers carried one on himself befores.”

Pickles tried not to let on how scared he was. He put on his brave face as he gave his friend a decent side hug. “I don’t like what I’m hearin’ dude,” the redhead stated honestly.

“Cans I sleeps over? I don’t want to deals with him beings manic tonights,” Skwisgaar pleaded. He would never admit the knife on the bedside table put him into a constant state of fear. He stayed wake the whole night to watch over his husband in case he pulled the knife on him.

“I’d feel better if yeh did.”

Skwisgaar let forth a sigh of relief.

“Hopefully, next week he’ll have more clarity. I know it took me a good two weeks to detox before I started to join the land of the livin’ again.”

“I ams so tired of its, Pickle. I don’ts want to does this anymore,” Skwisgaar whimpered. The headache and stress broke him down. He needed a break; he didn’t know if he could handle another day in his home dealing with his husband’s problems. He loved Magnus, he put every ounce of his soul into the marriage and relationship. He just needed a break to clear his head before he screamed and tore the house apart. His mind raced with dark thoughts, how easy it would be to take one of Magnus’ knives and slit his wrists, bleed out during his evening bath, and be freed of all the weight being piled upon him. He didn’t want to hurt himself; he called his mom when the thought crossed his mind and she talked him down. He confided in Jeff after band practice, he openly cried as he explained how depressed he felt. He wanted to tell Pickles this too.

Pickles’ heart sank. He understood being tired, he’d been there with Tony. Sitting next to him in a rundown motel begging him to choose him over heroin. Tony chose the drugs. Pickles walked away with what little he had left to start over. He understood exactly what Skwisgaar was going through. “I’ve been there, Skwisgaar. If he can’t clean up yeh eventually need to set yer limit then leave. I can get yeh in contact with my lawyer Charlie. Stay with me a few days and if yeh still feel like yer tired of yer marriage we’ll call him,” Pickles offered.

“I am just tireds. After I sleeps I wills be fine and cans go home,” Skwisgaar said defensively.

“Okay.”

The waterworks started before Skwisgaar had a chance to stifle the small sob. His thin body shook, the pressure in his eyes and head got worse.

“Oh, Skwisgaar don’t…it’ll only make yer migraine worse if yeh start crying,” Pickles cooed.

“Ams sorries. I need to talks to someone. I beens thinking a lot abouts hurting myself. I am scareds if I get anymore tireds I will does it,” Skwisgaar choked out. He buried his face into the crook of Pickles’ neck as he for the third time let all his emotions out.

Pickles clung to the blonde in his arms for dear life. He rejected to let go, Magnus and Nathan could pry them apart for all he cared. He’d still fight his way back to hold onto Skwisgaar with all his strength. He saw it a mile away, this day was coming when his friend finally broke. He stayed strong for so long but even glass under pressure slowly cracked before breaking. “Yeh listen to me. We are survivors of fucked up relationships with drug addicts. We are best friends,” the redhead sniffled. He tangled his hands into Skwisgaar’s blonde hair like a mother cradling her child to her breast. “I need yeh in my life. I love yeh with all my heart so does Nate. Yer mom and Murderface love yeh too. We are all people who need yeh in our lives as our friend and brother.”

“I am so sorries, Pickle.”

“Hey, yeh don’t get to be sorry. Yeh did nothin’ wrong, yeh need a break and it’s okay to ask for one. If Magnus needs help, we’ll stand in for yeh,” Pickles clarified.

Skwisgaar got his breathing under control from all the practice he got when his husband told him to calm down and stop crying. He counted through the breathing cycles until his breathing evened out enough to prevent the hiccups. “I keeps thinking how easies it would be to takes his knife and you knows,” the blonde trailed off.

“Trust me, yeh don’t want to do it,” Pickles said loosening his embrace enough to pull off the sweatbands to show the blonde his wrists.

The younger man blinked away the tears to look at the pale freckled wrists being presented to him. He marveled at the silvered scars that littered the two-inch space the fabric covered. He never knew they were there; Pickles hid them under sweatbands or jewelry. He gently took his friend’s wrists in his hands and rubbed his thumbs over the scars.

“I only stopped when Nate came into my life. I kept thinkin’ I wanted out of this world. It wasn’t until I met him, I realized I had value and a life worth livin’. Right now, yeh feel defeated and think this is the way out. Yeh need to hold on, Skwis. Yeh have value and worth, there will be someone for yeh that will love yeh without hurtin’ yeh. Trust me okay?”

“I always trusts you, Pickle. Thanks you.”

Pickles wiggled his hands out of Skwisgaar’s grasp. He didn’t replace the sweatbands; he wore his scars with pride in the presence of his friend. “Come lay down. I’ll cuddle with yeh until yeh wake up,” the redhead said. They got accustom to platonic bed-sharing since the first day that Skwisgaar ran away. Nathan didn’t mind in the least, he offered the younger man platonic cuddles on the couch too. They both got into the habit of showing him positive physical reinforcement.

“Ams so sleepy,” Skwisgaar whined as he flopped back onto the bed. He did the awkward wiggle to get himself up near the pillows and melted instantly when Pickles snuggled up behind him. He grumbled when the contact broke for a split second until the lights went out. Darkness ebbed the pain in his skull a bit, silence helped too.

“I am always here for yeh Skwisgaar.”

The blonde hummed back a response. He hugged Pickles’ arms that wrapped around his body. The warm security allowed him a chance to forget his problems. His worries washed away; the pain became tolerable enough that he could sleep. He was safe with Pickles holding him.

Two hours later, Nathan snuck into the bedroom to find his boyfriend and friend cuddling in bed. He leaned over, touching Pickles lightly to wake him.

“Pickles, Magnus is heading home,” he said softly.

The redhead didn’t let got of his bedmate, he planned to fight the other two for the right to hold onto Skwisgaar for the rest of the night. “Skwisgaar is stayin’ he’s got a migraine,” Pickles responded.

“I’ll go tell him,” Nathan said. He went to deliver the news which was well received. The older man seemed concerned and asked if Skwisgaar could call him the next day. Nathan promised, he watched from the balcony as Magnus and William got into their cars and drove off.

He took his time getting ready for bed. He debated sleeping in the guest bedroom then decided the place he wanted to be was with his boyfriend. He stood at the foot of the bed debating how to situate himself until he decided to crawl in behind Pickles. Skwisgaar already had his head plastered to the redhead’s chest, Nathan snuggled up behind his boyfriend to trap him between the two of them.

Nathan rubbed his hand down Pickles’ arm and noticed the missing sweatbands.

They were entering a new territory if his boyfriend was talking openly about his past self harm issues. In the morning they would talk about Skwisgaar’s marriage while they drank coffee and smoked out on the balcony.

The raven-haired man steeled himself for the worst. The hand trailing down Pickles’ arm moved to touch Skwisgaar for a moment.

“We’re here for you,” Nathan mumbled into the dark room.

He really hoped Skwisgaar understood that.

**Author's Note:**

> This wrote itself...it shat on me last night by making me tear up then I ruined my mascara editing this.  
> Oh, I am so sorry this is what you all get for the last post of 2020. We did know there would be a breaking point for Skwisgaar though and this is it. Thankfully, Pickles understands and Nathan can be there too to remind him he is loved.  
> I think we have two more heart-wrenchers before we can settle into the final chapters and points of view from Charles and Toki though!  
> Happy reading.


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